


Hold It Against Your Bones

by winter156



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 13:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13590882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter156/pseuds/winter156
Summary: They walk aimlessly. Pippa seems unbothered by their lack of determined destination. Hecate enjoys indulging in the opportunity to spend time with her.





	Hold It Against Your Bones

They walk aimlessly. Pippa seems unbothered by their lack of determined destination. Hecate enjoys indulging in the opportunity to spend time with her. Their arms and hands brush occasionally. Hecate’s skin burns wherever Pippa touches. Her heart beats faster after each accidental touch, but she doesn’t move away, she doesn’t widen the space between them. Her fingers itch to slip into Pippa’s hand and erase the distance between them. But, she doesn’t. Instead, her fingers twitch unconsciously after each touch and she keeps walking.

The sun set hours ago, but Pippa had insisted a stroll in the moonlit night would be fun, adventurous even. _We’re witches, Hiccup_ , she’d said with a smirk and a wink, _it’s practically written in stone that we do our best magic under the light of a full moon_. Hecate ignored how that playfulness made her heart tremble and pointed out that walking wasn’t magic. _Who’s to say we won’t do a little more than walk?_ And the brief, sly smile that accompanied those words was less playful and more something else entirely, something that made Hecate flush, but it was gone as soon as it appeared on Pippa’s face. The look and smile softened and invited Hecate along as much as the outstretched hand, open and warm. Hecate accepted both without resistance.

So here they were, walking the grounds of Pentangle’s in the middle of the night, stealing glances in the moonlight, and occasionally, accidentally brushing against each other. “…like wayward schoolchildren.” Pippa’s laugh curls around Hecate and expels the chill of the night.

They’ve stopped. Hecate looks around and the spot doesn’t seem particularly interesting, but Pippa has stopped and she feels no desire to wander away from her.

Pippa leans into Hecate’s space and places a hand on her forearm; Hecate can feel its heat even through her layer of clothing. “There’s no one to catch us tonight,” she whispers conspiratorially, standing just a little too closely and speaking just a little too softly and muddling the exact meaning of the words.

They stand there, a little too closely, staring at each other a little too softly, with Pippa’s hand on Hecate’s forearm, in a moment that keeps stretching. Hecate’s mind races and she thinks she sees a spark of some unspoken thing in Pippa’s eyes. And she almost, _almost_ closes the too small space between them. She can feel the muscles in her back contracting to bend across the inches between them…

But the moment is abruptly broken when Pippa pulls back and tugs at Hecate to continue their walk. 

Hecate acquiesces to the gentle pull of the fingers on her arm. She doesn’t know whether the flutter in her chest and stomach is disappointment or relief. Looking at the hand on her arm, Hecate can’t help but feel the disappointment of not kissing Pippa more sharply than the relief of not embarrassing herself.

But even the acrid taste of disappointment melts away in the continued warmth of Pippa’s presence.

Pippa loops her arm through Hecate’s, without hesitation, without qualm, without missing a single syllable of the words that fall from her mouth in happy amusement. She touches her so surely and so familiarly, that Hecate doesn’t feel any of her usual reticence in allowing the touch.

She’d forgotten how tactile Pippa is. Hecate watches how her free hand moves with every words she says, how each motion is an extension of her words. And, Hecate feels each squeeze of the arm in hers, and is reminded that Pippa’s touches are an extension of her affection. Hecate remembers that Pippa demonstrates emotion through touch. And while she doesn’t mind the reminders, they’re surprising in their frequency and consistency to _her_. It’s easy to allow Pippa the freedom of touch, because she enjoys them. Hecate doesn’t know how to voice that she wants more of them.

And maybe she was wrong about walking not being magic. Because walking arm in arm with Pippa, alone together, under the soft light of the moon, feels like magic. It’s warm and thrumming an irresistible song in her blood. It’s both familiar and unfamiliar…and…and it feels…it feels like…

_Love_. Her mind and heart scream at once, one elated and the other terrified. And she’s not sure which is which. Just that she feels it everywhere. Everywhere. Everywhere.

Hecate stops dead in her tracks, yanking Pippa to a stop with her. Pippa’s words stop suddenly and she lifts worried eyes to Hecate. And Hecate falls into the depth of Pippa’s eyes as her whole world expands inside her. Larger and larger until nothing is familiar and everything is new and bright and whole.

“Hecate?” Pippa voice calls her and settles her. Her hand on her shoulder, soft and warm, centers her. Pippa _anchors_ her.

Hecate shakes her head, trying to dispel Pippa’s worry. She turns her arm in Pippa’s and squeezes gently, trying to reassurance Pippa.

Her heart trembles, and Hecate thinks she might actually be shaking, because she feels everything _so much_ and _so sharply_ that her vision is blurred at the edges and she might pass out. But, she holds on; she holds tight to Pippa.

Hecate already knows what letting go feels like. Holding on, holding close, feels infinitely easier.

She’s in love. And it’s terrifying. And it’s wonderful.

“It’s alright,” she breathes into the space between them, “I’m fine.” She looks at Pippa with new eyes and smiles softly _my heart tripped over itself_. “I just tripped.”

Pippa searches Hecate’s face. A smile as soft as Hecate’s feels blooms across her face. She doesn’t say anything, she just slides her hand down Hecate’s arms and laces their fingers together.

They continue their walk, more slowly, more quietly, their hands entwined. It’s intimate and special and Hecate’s heart, that hasn’t stopped trembling since it revealed its truth to her, finally settles into the surety of the moment.

Hecate looks over at Pippa’s profile in the moonlight feels that same thrum of magic in her veins, that same song again. _Things which are full of grace..._

She looks around them at the shadows of the trees they’re passing, at the untouched meadow in the middle of the clearing of the trees, and the moon suspended high in the night sky. _The full moon on a quiet night…_

A gentle breeze brings with it the smell of salt and sand. _The sea when it is calm…_

_Frost…_

_Orchids…_

_Ruins…_

_Love…_

_Us._

Pippa stops and snaps her fingers. A blanket and a basket appears a few feet in front of them.

Hecate can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her. Of course Pippa had a destination. Of course they would do more than walk aimlessly in the middle of the night.

Pippa’s answering smile is wide and pleased. She squeezes Hecate’s hand before sitting and tugging her down to sit on the blanket with her. They settle shoulder to shoulder, each holding a glass of the wine Pippa poured them, and simply revel in the moment.

“Why, Miss Pentangle, one could mistake this for a romantic evening out?” Hecate bumps Pippa’s shoulder with her own. She can feel the smile fully formed on her face and knows it’s soft by the way Pippa’s face softens when she looks at her. Hecate shakes her head but doesn’t stop her face from showing how she feels.

“Let there be no mistake, Miss Hardbroom. It wasn’t the easiest task convincing a stubborn witch that some adventure was to be had tonight.” Pippa leans in, a smile on her lips but her eyes serious, and Hecate thinks for one wild second that she’s going to kiss her. But, Pippa just pulls the empty glass from her fingers and leans away to settle them back in the basket.

“Pippa…” Hecate reaches for her.

Pippa entwines their hands again and rests her head on Hecate’s shoulder. “Tell me a story, Hiccup.”

Hecate looks up at the sky and talks of old gods and goddesses of the moon and the stars. Her heart beats a steady rhythm that sings both a new and an old song.

_Us._

Their shoulders are touching and their heads are pressed together as they stare up at the cloudless sky illuminated by the full moon. Hecate shifts and tilts her head and watches Pippa’s face, full of awed amazement at the simple pleasure of the night, of their time together. Hecate feels the heat of her all the way down her arm and wants to reciprocate touch. Because it’s a language all its own, and she thinks she finally understands it.

_We are._

Pippa turns to face her and they sit suspended in the moment, illuminated by the moon, the night bearing witness to them in this moment. Hecate raises her hand and cups Pippa’s face. And, she understands instantly why Pippa touches her so much.

Pippa’s eyes sparkle and she smiles softly at Hecate. She leans into the touch.

Hecate leans in and knows with certainty that she’ll be met halfway, because there’s no resistance to her touch, no shock, no surprise, just a smile that hides behind her hand before melting into her lips.

Pippa slides her hands up strong arms and solid shoulders settling across Hecate’s jaw and neck. She pulls Hecate closer and opens her mouth to her.

Hecate doesn’t care that an awed sigh gets swallowed up between their lips, because her world is expanding again, enlarging at the edges. Bright and beautiful and infinite.

_We are so full of grace we shine._


End file.
